#if i pick up the label again

[sysmedsaresexist]

Part of the reason I held on to the anti endo label is because it gave me access to the problems within that community

No offense, pro/endos, you've been awesome, but part of me wishes I had kept it just so I could debunk a lot of these horrible, misguided, cruel, and factually inaccurate posts

If I had known the flood of asshoolery was coming, I'd have waited another week or two, because apparently all of my knowledge and work are completely useless because I

-squints-

Uh...

Because I have respect for people's experiences, and understand that the way I experience things is not the only way those things can be experienced, and that people deserve to have a community and words to discuss those experiences without abuse and hate

Because I've realized that two things can, in fact, be true at the same time and there are only so many words in the English language to talk about being multiple or plural, so sometimes it's going to overlap (and that's okay)

And because you can't share resources if you can't be nice to people and try to understand where they're coming from

And, most importantly, apparently,

I switched to the pro endo label

These are my crimes

My punishment?

Exile

As someone with severe social anxiety that actually hates arguing (it's very stressful)

[batsplat]

Yes with these names, Pedrosa, Marquez and Stoner amazed me. And Rossi, obviously. Pedrosa was very strong in 125 and 250, because with his stature he had an incredible technique. Above all he took advantage of his weight a lot - as they say, in the pick up of the bike, which was very difficult and he was the first to do it like that. After all we copied him with the technique. Marquez is a beast here (points at head), and the only rider that... I wouldn't tell you that he likes to fall, because nobody likes to fall, but he wasn't afraid of falling. And he was like a pit bull - he always wanted to win, even if he wasn't comfortable on a circuit, even if the bike wasn't going well... He had an unconventional ambition, he always wanted to beat you. He believed in the falls, but he wasn't afraid of falling. So in that sense he is unique. Stoner was a natural talent, unconventional. For example, when the track was wet, with patches of water - he took it on, came out of the box, delivered the track record, took two or three seconds off everyone. So an improvisation and an ability to see the limit of the track immediately, incredible. What a natural talent. Either you have it or you don't. Valentino? Very complete. A person... as a person, naturally very intelligent, very charismatic. A great braker, a rider who could improvise a lot with the bike. When he was racing, [even when tired, with an elevated pulse], he was very lucid. Very complete. He didn't have a super quality… How would I say? (Interviewer: Any [outstanding] quality.) Yes, but it was all very complete.

Jorge Lorenzo on his rivals (x)

[daydreamerwonderkid]

Something tells me Homura would be obsessed with Jennifer's Body ...

[fideidefenswhore]

reading alison weir's new novel; she's adapted and altered the primary source material she's clearly using in a way that is...um. something?

[dewgongs]

ughh why do i have to have njghtmares about them

[running-in-the-dark]

I think I mentioned that I was looking into getting a better sewing machine? well, it arrived today 🙈 that happened much faster than planned. I found the model I was looking at at a (relatively) local sewing machine store, for 30% off because it had been in the shop window, so the plastic has yellowed.

I wasn't sure how I felt about that (the website only said it was a floor model or something similar, then someone from the store called and told me the specifics and asked if that was still okay), but honestly? I never ever would have paid the full price, it was just too much, I couldn't justify that. but this reduced price was only a little more than the ones I had been looking at before (that were not great quality and probably wouldn't last very long).

I am very particular about things like this but I'm trying to make myself accept that it really is not that bad. it actually looks kinda cool. I just have to get my brain to accept that it's not a flaw, it's just a completely superficial and insignificant thing that doesn't affect its function at all. it's good that this machine that works perfectly won't end up in a landfill just because it doesn't look brand new.

I only got to try it a little bit today because I wasn't feeling well but damn, the difference to my old machine is huge!! it's so much more fun and easy to use - I love having the needle threader and that it can automatically cut the yarn when you're done. and with the start/stop button it's actually really fun to wind bobbins!! I always hated that on my old machine.

I skimmed through the manual earlier (and put page markers in it so that I can easily find anything later) - it did seem somewhat overwhelming at first. I've never used or even seen (irl) a computerised sewing machine, so of course it did! but it already felt much more familiar after just using it a little bit today. I love it 🥰

(also, I think the fact that it doesn't look perfect and brand new actually helps - I'm not afraid to use it in case I 'ruin' it!)

[snowychicken]

Btw I made another!!!

[cherrysfeelings]

New picks because this elimination hits direfent

1. Samara 🇧🇷

2. Manon 🇨🇭

3. Celeste 🇦🇷

4. Nayoung 🇰🇷

5. Marquise 🇹🇭

6. Emily 🇺🇸

7. Lara 🇮🇳

8. Daniela 🇺🇸🇨🇺

9. Lexie 🇸🇪

10. Sophia 🇵🇭

[nomairuins]

like its a tually ridiculous bc if i have like conflicting feelings on somebody bc nuance is a thing that exists my brains likw Oh so youre making excuses for that awful person but then if i do black and white thinking and think of someone as ourely evil my brains like God are you stupid do you even know about nuance youre so reductive. nobody is purely good or evil and acting as if someone is innately evil is a horriblr thing to do bc its making excuses and coddling yourself into believing Oh incould never do something like thst because im not innately evil like they are . Nobody is ourely good or bad Except for you who is irredeemable and awful and going to hell forever and you are completely unequivocally an evil aeful horrible person. and it is your fault because you choose to be evil and also youve always been evil and you canr help it or fix it but its your choice as well and your fault. so

[actual-corpse]

I want a shirt that says, "/I/ KNOW Jesus... Do you?"

But like...... I don't want the shirt bc I know for a fact people will misconstrue what I mean.

It's like... those who think they get it, don't, and those who don't get it do.

[eggmeralda]

thumbnail that says "staying in my band until I feel appreciated" and the video is 3 years long

[irlwolfdog]

Gender is extremely confusing I’m requestioning being genderfluid bc as of recent I have been feeling feminine in terms of gender but like I know for a fact I am transmasc and shit so idek anymore

[moonlightpirate]

Oh to be a starbucks customer and to complain about such trivial things I truly wish those were my biggest worries

[yaoiplug]

i recorded my dog while she was having some issues like just to show the vet once we get there but my phone decided to turn off in that moment and didn't save the video 😜

[nosferalto]

the "booktok" paradox is that as of right now, tiktok is genuinely one of the best platforms for advertising your book and reaching a wider audience as a new author while simultaneously being the worst platform because no matter what you'll never be able to wash the tiktok stench off of your work. it's forever

[bi-writes]

hiiiii I'm new to your page but i would like to ask you what would've happened if simon mail-ordered a bride?

mail-order bride

you stare down at the address on the card, blinking as you reread the house number and look back up at the cottage in front of you. the numbers match, but you just need a few more minutes before you knock on the door.

you're not holding too many things. you have one suitcase with the entirety of your belongings at one side, the cat carrier sitting on top of it. on the other side, you hold a bundle of papers. your immigration papers, all shiny and new, your birth certificate, and your new british passport.

when you look back down, you swallow as you read over your name. it's odd, to see something new in the section labeled SURNAME.

Riley.

you've never met him. this isn't legal, it can't be, to have all of these things. he must be someone important. someone they value. or maybe, they are just too afraid to say no to him.

the front door opens, and you freeze on the spot as you see someone duck their head to step outside. they're wearing a mask, covering their entire face except for their dark eyes, but it's hitched up over his nose as he holds an unlit cigarette between his lips.

he stares as he sees you at the end of the steps. he frowns, looking you up and down.

"weren't supposed ta be 'ere for a few weeks."

your eyes water a little, but you only manage a shrug.

"i-i..." you meet his eyes. "i-i couldn't stay there any longer. i didn't have anywhere else to go."

he tucks the cigarette back behind his ear, slipping the mask off. it reveals a tousled mess of short blonde hair and a terribly scarred face. his eyes dart to the little carrier sitting next to you when he hears a soft meow coming from it.

"said no pets."

your lip trembles.

"please," you whisper, and his lip twitches as he fights off a scowl. you imagine he must not have much practice in hiding his emotions. he comes down the steps anyways, coming closer, and you pick up the carrier as he snatches the suitcase off the pavement, making his way back inside. you follow him, naturally.

when you close the door behind you, you're surprised at how quaint it all is. nice brick fireplace, a soft carpet (no shoes allowed is what he snapped at you), and wonderfully furnished to make the place cozy, warm, lived-in. there's throw blankets and accent pillows. there's pictures on the walls, paintings, yellow corner lights to give everything a soft glow. the kitchen is beautiful, with lovely colored tile and wooden cutting boards, a drip-coffee setup in the corner and worn cookbooks stacked neatly by a stainless steel toaster. there's herbs growing in little pots sitting on the windowsill above the sink, and there's a cast iron pot decoratively resting on the stove.

it's spick-span clean. there's no specks of dust or splatters left over from bacon grease. there's papers pinned to the fridge, lists to remind him to buy whole milk and sliced bread and call about the internet bill being charged twice again.

you set the carrier down on the couch, unzipping the top. a little curious black head pokes out of it, and you reach in and pick the cat up under its belly and drop it onto the floor. immediately, the cat spreads its front paws, claws sticking out as they begin to knead the carpet and use it as a personal scratcher, the prick, prick, prick sound enough to draw the giant man out of the bedroom with a hard frown on his face.

he points at the thing and shakes his head.

"keep tha' thing off the fawkin' counter," he snaps at you. he purses his lips when he sees you still standing there, afraid to even move. he comes closer, the cat scurrying off, and he yanks your coat and scarf off, going to the hang them up by the door. "can unpack tomorrow. need t'make somethin' ta eat."

you move immediately towards the kitchen, hoping he keeps a stocked fridge, but he puts out a big hand and stops you, stepping in front of you.

"the fuck are y'doin'?" he asks, and you blink up at him.

"you said to make dinner...s-sir?"

he tilts his head to the side, narrowing his eyes.

"y'listen t'this," he murmurs. "women don't lift a fuckin' finger in this house, y'hear?"

you nod, and he reaches up and palms your throat, cupping your jaw.

"and my wife doesn't call me sir," he mutters. "it's simon."

you soften a little. "i-i'm sorry, simon."

"don't apologize," he grits his teeth. "did nothin' wrong."

when a fresh set of tears comes down your face, he wipes them away with ease, calloused thumb swiping over your cheeks and quieting you. he puts something into your hands, a velvet box that he must've gotten when he went to put your suitcase away.

"y'r a riley now, yeah?" he murmurs, and you tilt your head at an angle, and your foreheads brush together when he bends low to speak to you. "act like it."

you lean up on your toes (he's so fucking tall), and you kiss him softly beside his mouth. when he moves his head, your lips brush against each other, but he pulls back to make his way to the kitchen. you hear the gas stove light up, and a few minutes later, there's a familiar smell of onions hitting hot olive oil.

you take a seat on the couch, smiling to yourself, wiping your eyes as you curl up there. you flip open the box, sighing shakily when you see the rectangular diamond and matching gold wedding band. when simon comes back in to give you a mug of tea, you take it with your left hand, and his eyes flicker when he notices the new jewelry there, so pretty, so new.

mine.

when he pads back into the kitchen, the cat blinks up at him slowly, green eyes bright as they sit on the counter.

simon walks past it, saying nothing at all.